A Legends Word

Walking by the streetsSomewhere, sometimesIn a chill winter's dawn,The world half asleepInsists me to leave,Leave my dwell here.Leave that shedTo autumn's call,The call of deathResiding in meSeems no different.The place and its beingsHave known their defeats since ages,Still, sometimesThey dream of being freeIf their own clutches.No dream shall lastInto the sight that they're lost.Fear i hold is no free, andSeems no different.Walking by the streetsToday, this timeOn a pleasant evening,A breeze in silence, passing by,Swirls into my ear, andTo the world beneathThat it's me.......